As a Black guzheng artist, I live at the intersection of multiple identities. The guzheng, with its thousands of years of history rooted in Chinese culture, became my voice. Each performance is a reminder that identity is layered: I am both carrying the traditions of an instrument not born of my culture and expanding what it means to represent Black artistry in America. My journey has been about more than music, it’s been about reclaiming space, creating belonging, and showing that culture is not a wall, but a bridge.
The BIPOC experience is defined by resilience and adaptation. For me, learning the guzheng meant stepping into rooms where I was often the only Black person, asked again and again to explain my choice of instrument. At times, the pressure to “justify” my art was heavy, but that very tension also shaped my perspective: identity is not confined by expectation. The guzheng’s voice—at once delicate, powerful, and infinite—mirrors the complexity of BIPOC existence. We carry histories of struggle, yet we transform those stories into art, sound, and healing. My fingers on the strings are not just playing notes, but weaving together threads of ancestry, survival, and hope.
To be BIPOC in the arts is to confront stereotypes while also rewriting narratives. Every performance is my way of saying: we belong everywhere art is made. The guzheng in my hands represents possibility—proof that boundaries can be crossed, cultures can be shared, and voices once silenced can be amplified. As a Black guzheng artist, I don’t just play music; I embody the resilience of my community, the shared dreams of BIPOC artists, and the promise that our voices whether spoken, sung, or strummed across strings, will continue to shape the world.
Jarrelle （杰遨） Barton
